


You Cannot See Yourself so Well as by Reflection

by tatertatra



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Father-Daughter Relationship, Leia is so much like Anakin it hurts, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 13:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14333148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatertatra/pseuds/tatertatra
Summary: She’s a fire that burns bright, just like her father.Sometimes Ahsoka looks straight at her and all she can see is Anakin. All that rage and wit, righteous contempt. She imagines what might’ve been if everything had been different.





	You Cannot See Yourself so Well as by Reflection

_And since you know you cannot see yourself_

_So well as by reflection, I, your glass,_

_Will modestly discover to yourself_

_That of yourself which you yet know not of._

  
_-_ The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, William Shakespeare

 

 

She’s a fire that burns bright, just like her father.

Sometimes Ahsoka looks straight at her and all she can see is Anakin. All that rage and wit, righteous contempt. She imagines what might’ve been if _everything_ had been different.

Bail, a good man and a good father, standing next to her and trying not to smile, is replaced with Anakin. Anakin, better than he was and with little bits of grey hair working at his temples, grinning fully as Leia’s lips curl over her teeth.

She still argues for what is _right,_ not what is _easy_.

She would be a Jedi. Fierce and strong and proud next to him. Robes becoming on her form and a lightsaber strapped to her hip. A beacon for the whole galaxy.

It would’ve been a sight to behold.

But Leia Skywalker— _no_ , Ahsoka corrects herself, _Organa_ — is a whip in the force regardless. Jedi or not. Ahsoka feels it when she lashes out at a diplomat or a general she finds particularly foolish. It cracks with her tongue.

_Oh_ , Ahsoka thinks,  _Your father would’ve been so proud of you_.

 

* * *

 

Padmé’s belly is swollen when he rests his cheek against it.

A child.

_His_ child.

The thought leaves him breathless.

Padmé lets her fingers run lazy, soothing lines through his hair. “Do you feel anything?” she asks softly.

He does, but the thing he feels isn’t physical. The force hums lullaby, a song of a permanent, midnight sun that breaks through the canopy.

She is still so small, but so bright and smart and strong.

His heart stutters, a thread pushes straight through his chest and pulls taut. A hook, a bond.

_She_. A little girl.

A smiles pulls at his mouth until he feels his face might split. He nuzzles Padmé’s belly and she laughs.  

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she says.

He goes to speak but the words fall apart behind his teeth. For the first time in his life, he’s so happy he can’t breathe.

He pulls her tighter and lets his child’s light wash over him.

 

* * *

 

When the war is over, people approach her with questions about Darth Vader.

She’s a senator now, and a mother, and she doesn’t want to hear a damn thing about the man that killed her people.

“Senator Organa, if I may have a moment of your time?”   

She turns to find a reporter, separated from the fray of the party to find her staring out a window. She can still see the light of Alderaan from here, too far from the horror to be snuffed out.

The reporter’s eyes drift to the toddler asleep on Leia’s chest, his thumb in his mouth. She runs a protective hand through Ben’s muss of dark hair.

She bites back a sigh and nods towards the man. “Of course.”

The reporter types something quickly on his datapad and clears his throat. “You’ve briefly mentioned before that you were held captive by Darth Vader during the Galactic Civil War.”

Leia stiffens. She fights to keep the edge from her voice. “Yes.”

The reporter looks up at her and Leia knows immediately she’s in the kind of trouble she can’t blast her way out of. There’s something cruel that shines in his eyes. “Anyone who can corroborate these details is dead or conveniently absent from the public eye. Do you still claim this is truly what happened?”

She wants to bury her fist in his perfectly straight nose, so instead she lets her hands rest on Ben’s back.

She remembers watching her planet burn. Every time she blinks she sees it, a bright burst of sparks, all that life suddenly gone.

Just to prove a point.

Tarkin sneered, and her father stood behind her the whole time and made her watch. He made her watch as the man who did what he could not was burned away against the stars.

All that hatred comes seering to the surface as Leia looks at the reporter. She takes a step back and snarls. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

The man cocks his head. “No time for the hard-hitting questions, Senator? We all remember where we were when we heard of Alderaan’s destruction. Perhaps some of us weren’t where we said we were.” He looks at Ben again with a smirk. “Perhaps some of us were. . . _occupied_.”

The force is pooling at her feet. She’s about to lash out when a different voice cuts through the room.

“I believe Senator Organa asked you to leave.” The willowy Amilyn Holdo steps between them, bright green hair ablaze and face stern. “And now I’m asking you to leave.”

The reporter opens his mouth only to snap it shut. He gnaws on his cheek before he finally grins. “Of course. I have what I need. Have a good night, ladies.” He bows dramatically and slinks away into the shadows.

When they can no longer see him, Leia lets out a breath. “I was going to kill him.”

Amilyn laughs and hugs her around Ben. She places a kiss on each of Leia’s cheeks and the top of Ben’s head. “As much as I would’ve liked to see that, I’m not sure that would’ve been wise, Senator.”

Leia shakes her head, smiling ruefully up at her friend. “It hardly matters. The HoloNet will be going crazy with this tomorrow. We’ll be doing damage control for a week.”

“Nothing you can’t handle.”

A sigh works from Leia’s mouth. She’s suddenly exhausted, a migraine pressing behind her eyes. She rubs her forehead and slumps against the window.

Amilyn gives her a gentle smile and holds out her arms again. “Here,” she says. “Let me have Ben and you go get something to eat, go mingle. Enjoy the party.”

Leia shoots her a look. “You don’t like children.”

Amilyn shrugs. “I like yours. He’s sweet. But most importantly,” she says, “you deserve a break.”

She relents and untangles Ben from the strappings across her chest. He fusses at first, about to wail before Amilyn buries her face in his chubby neck and blows.

Leia only allows herself to walk away when he squeals in delight.

She spends the rest of her night desperately trying not to think of Vader and the light that hangs in the sky.

 

* * *

 

There is an old ache in his body that never goes away.

The second he steps into the hall with her, that tether in his chest snaps into place. He remembers the feel of her, light that filters through immense darkness to the world below.

There’s a warmth that begins to make him feel human again, soothes the pain that etches into his metal bones, before he shoves it away.

_But oh_ , he thinks despite himself, _she looks like Padmé._

“Darth Vader,” she says, ferocity coiled in her form. “Only you could be so bold. The Imperial Senate will not sit still for this. When they hear you’ve attacked a diplomatic—”

_And she burns like me._

It fills him with rage. An anger that ignites for what could’ve been and it smothers him. She’s a blade that digs into the scars, into that old ache, and reminds of how far he’s fallen.

But there is still further to fall yet.

 

* * *

 

There’s an old man asking to see her in her office. He shuffles in with a hood pulled up to obscure his face, and dips his head in respect as soon as he steps through the doorway. When he pulls the hood away from his face, something familiar shoots down Leia’s spine but she can’t place it.

He is bald, with tan skin and the workings of a scraggly, grey beard that hangs below his collarbone.  

“Senator Organa,” he wheezes. “It’s an honor to be meeting with you.”

Leia shakes off the feeling and smiles, gesturing to the chair before her desk. “It’s no problem. What can I do for you?”

He shakes his head as he takes a seat. “No, no. I don’t need anything. I just wished to speak with you.”

She snorts. “Well that’s a rare treat. People usually want something from me. What—”

“I served with your father during the Clone Wars.” He cuts her off so suddenly, so desperately, she has to laugh.

She makes the mistake of assuming he’s speaking of Bail Organa.

A fond, sad smile pulls across her mouth. “Bail Organa—”

“No,” he interrupts again. “Not Bail.”

The weight of it forces the air from her lungs. She’d stood before the Senate, not a week ago, and told them the truth of her blood, born of Vader— Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala. It was new and raw and suffocating.

She stands and braces herself against her desk, letter to Ben cast aside. “Now is perhaps not the best time for this conversation. I have much to do, as you can imagine, and—”

The man meets her eyes, immensely sad and a warm brown. “Anakin Skywalker was the best the Jedi had to offer. He was the bravest, most unorthodox man I’ve ever known and it was an honor to serve under him. You deserve to know that, despite everything.”

No. No, she doesn't want to hear this. She’s never wanted to know anything about him. He is not her father. Her father was a _good_ man, her father died because of that _monster_.

She grits her teeth. “Who are you?”

“I was labelled CT-7567,” he says. It forms lines between his brows before he continues. “But everyone called me Rex.”

Everything snaps into place. She knew of him from the Rebellion, but only in passing. He’d been friends with Ahsoka Tano, Saw Gerrera, a dozen other people she’d known throughout her lifetime.

She was supposed to trust him, and yet he came to her poking and prodding at things that weren’t his.

It hurts so much she can’t even look at him.

“Get out,” she says, collapsing back into her chair, face pressed into her palms. When he doesn’t move, she slams her hands on her desk. Datapads and holos rattle with the force. “Get out!”

When she looks up again, Rex is gone and guilt festers in her chest.

 

* * *

 

He thinks of her as he takes his last breath.

Luke is before him, kneeling, begging. “No, you’re coming with me. I’ll not leave you here, I’ve got to save you!”

“You already have, Luke,” he says. It hurts to breathe, hurts to move. “You were right. You were right about me.”

There’s so much to say and yet he finds himself failing. Tears slip down his son’s face.

His son. Here.

No longer alone.

_One moment longer_ , he pleads to the thing that beckons beyond. _Give me one more moment for my children. They deserve that much._

Luke’s hand is on his shoulder and the air is cold against his skin.

Why is his face so cold?

He never thought he’d be this afraid, but he thinks of _her,_ so brightly burning, and the regret fades to calm. He takes a final, steadying breath. “Tell your sister you were right.”

“Father,” Luke says, still reaching for something to grasp onto, a thread to keep him from slipping away, “I won’t leave you.”

But he still slips away and it's as easy as falling asleep. The silence takes him like a cradle. There is peace there, and for the first time, the war drum of the force inside him exhales out into a lullaby.

**Author's Note:**

> Another non-linear, drabble fic! I've been sitting on this for monthes and decided I'd finally share it. :) And for once it's a Star Wars thing not about Kylo Ren. Surprise!  
> Many thanks to the forever betas, Leslie and Alex. And Bee who encouraged this fic. MUAH!  
> Comments and kudos much appreciated! <3  
> Find me on tumblr and twitter @ tatraas


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